


Narcissism

by rehliamonster



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Degradation, Explicit Sexual Content, Incestuous feelings, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Painplay, Pining, Slightly dubcon, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Crush, sex as a coping mechanism, unsafe sexual practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 12:44:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rehliamonster/pseuds/rehliamonster
Summary: What reason other than narcissism could you possibly have, to fuck your own alternate version from a different universe?





	Narcissism

The smile was a crooked one, the even line of jagged teeth broken by a harsh glint of dirty gold. It sat on a face like his own and Razz _hated_ that, despised it in a way he could neither comprehend nor put into words. 

They’d been fighting since they met each other barely a few days ago while their brothers laughed about it, comparing them to cats of all things and then leaving, easy companionship where there shouldn’t have been any. The mutt and the boss, with one taking care of the other and who the fuck even knew which of them fulfilled which role when it came right down to it. Fast friends, thick as thieves, squabbling over their differences in the most good-natured of ways, it was disgusting. 

What kind of fell monster behaved like that. 

And he, he was left with this, this _disgrace_ , this pathetic _scum_ , disgusting little piece of - 

The smile widened, condescending and knowing and oh-so-very-punchable. 

Razz struck the other before he even knew what he was doing - not a punch, but a slap that resounded in the confines of the messy room of his alternate, the filth of which made something recoil in his soul. 

“got it out of yer system?” Red asked, apparently completely unbothered by the mark on his cheek where Razz’ hand connected, the bone quickly tinting an angry, aggressive red; wild poppies blooming on a field of hardened white. 

“Fuck you,” Razz spat. 

“sure,” Red shrugged. “if that helps ya.” 

Razz stared at his own alternate sputtering, not knowing what to say so his pent up aggression and energy wound themselves up into a tangle. He wanted to snap, but didn’t know in which direction. 

He ended up gripping the other’s collar, _tight_ , growling “don’t fuck with me” like a corrupted cop in the cheap grindhouse movies Alphys made him watch with her when she was out of anime to torture him with. 

Red’s breath was laboured, he was clearly struggling to breathe past the obstruction of the painfully tightened collar. 

Still his grin didn’t fade. 

Sweat beaded on his skull, palest red, almost pink. A surprisingly delicate colour for such a fat little sadsack. It didn’t match the rest of him. The way his lids lowered. The way his expression turned into something filthy with that one change.

“yeah,” Red said, as if it explained anything. 

There was a splotch of red in his shorts, a faint glow that grew stronger the longer Razz held tight onto that collar, so maybe it did explain something. 

He could’ve done a lot of things. 

Laugh. 

Recoil in disgust. 

Drag the asshole back to his brother and demand that Edge put an end to this nonsense. 

Instead, Razz pulled harder, until the wheezing remnants of breath Red had still been able to draw sputtered out and the other was left shivering, then trembling as his mouth fell open and his eyes rolled back, a dumb expression if Razz had ever seen one. He held the moment for a fraction of a second longer and then let go, allowing Red to fall onto the floor into the filth he had created in his own room, a sad pile of bones among a sad pile of trash. 

Razz stepped closer and carefully, almost gently, set the heel of his steel-capped boot onto Red’s crotch. 

“So. This is how you like to play?” he questioned. 

A low whine met him, still higher than Red’s usual register and not quite so rough, not quite so gravelly, and that sent a white-hot flash of _something_ down Razz’ spine. 

“yeah. shit. yeah.” 

“Creative.” 

“shut the fuck up.” 

Razz pressed his heel down harder, and was met with a ragged moan in return. The gold tooth on the face that looked so much like his own caught the light as the mouth it sat in fell open, and caught his attention right with it. Wrong. That face was so wrong. 

He still wanted to punch it. 

Kneeling down, Razz brought himself closer to the other, digging his patella into the other’s crotch instead of his heel. Same difference. He tried not to notice how fleshy and wet things had gotten there in the meantime. 

Instead, he reached out and took that cursed face into his hands, cradling the rounded zygomatic arches under his phalanges as if he were touching something precious. They almost felt soft. Babyface. 

He hated it so much. 

The movement was swift, one second he was holding his duplicate’s face as if it was his first born, the next second another slap rang out through the room, followed by a lustful cry. The heated conjured flesh under Razz’ patella twitched. 

He struck Red again. And again. 

Red deserved it. 

Every last piece of pain. 

What did it matter anyway? Clearly, Red was enjoying it, if the rough, humiliated little noises he made as he ground up into Razz’ leg were anything to go by. 

Not so fast though. 

Razz withdrew. Red stared up at him with a dazed expression, eyelights blown wide and unfocused. There was desperation on his face, a hint of displeasure, needy lusty heated confusion. 

“boss,” the other breathed. “boss, please.” 

One little word. 

One word that wouldn’t have been uttered had the circumstances not been exactly what they were.

It struck Razz in the place he never wanted to acknowledge, couldn’t wouldn’t shouldn’t, had to, now. There it was, the ugly truth laid bare, the one that made him hate himself and his face and his face on his alternate although he also hated that face for a different reason. Something rotten and putrid dragged into the sun to fester where everyone could see. They were alike in this as well after all. There was no escape. 

Except perhaps one.

Had the other known? Done this on purpose? 

Razz wouldn’t put it past him. Bastard. 

But it was too interesting - _too tempting_ \- not to play along.

“Not before you work for it, lazybones,” he growled, having picked up enough over the past couple of days to know the right words. “You’ll just fall over exhausted if I let you come first.”

Tears gathered at the corners of Red’s eye sockets, whether out of shame and guilt, or relief and happiness, Razz didn’t know. It was messed up either way, but when was his life ever not. 

Red scrambled to his knees, almost falling over himself in his eagerness to please. 

“boss, yes, please, just lemme, i’ll do it fer ya - “ 

Red’s phalanges scrambled on the belt holding Razz’ shorts in place and the clink of bone on metal, the slap of leather that followed, the cool air suddenly hitting his bones as his shorts were roughly dragged down, brought his awareness sharply into the present. Recognising what he was about to do. 

He could have stopped it then. 

He did not. 

Red’s tongue was a long, sinuous thing, sinfully dexterous and clever as it licked its way over the bumps and notches of Razz’ pelvic bone. Razz breathed deep, forcing himself to stay steady, to keep his breath even. In control. Even though his magic was gathering fast on his bones, the colour rushing down to stain the bone from palest lilac to darkest plum in a matter of seconds. 

Another lick and Razz flinched, a quick grunt making it past his iron control as his cock manifested, sensitive and already leaking precum. 

“yeah, that’s it, boss, just, just lemme…” 

Razz couldn’t help but notice that Red’s eyes were closed as he nuzzled against Razz’ cock. Licked a wide stripe over it and took it into his mouth, sucking languidly while grazing the flesh ever so faintly with his teeth. 

“Careful, whelp,” Razz snapped. 

Red only moaned and sucked harder, the slurping sounds of his tongue sounding obscene in the relative silence of the room. They were accompanied by the wet sounds of Red’s fist on his own dick, pumping frantically but aimlessly. His face was a perfect image of devotion, brow bones drawn close together while his closed sockets and dutifully working mouth spelt out emotions that should have been out of place on a fell monster. 

Pathetic and ridiculous. 

Razz let his own sockets fall close. Allowed his head to fall back while he made shallow thrusts into the heated, wet cavity of the mouth that was engulfing his dick so wonderfully. It was velvety and and sticky. The room stank of old sweat and dried condiments, the dusty funk of a room left unaired for too long. Objectively disgusting. Familiar and comfortable.

“Harder,” he demanded, no ear for how breathless his voice sounded. 

Strong hands grabbed his iliac crests as the effort on his dick redoubled, rough and calloused, a certain sense of grit to them. They felt so good. So comforting. It was so easy to imagine.

“I… I said harder,” he huffed, his own hands scrabbling to find a grip on the smooth, rounded dome of the skull bobbing on his cock. 

The sucking motion increased yet again, delightful stimulation lighting his whole lower body on fire, the area between his legs lit with sensation like grabbing a live wire. It brought him so close. 

So desperately close to -

“I said harder you fucking - “

Close to coming in - 

“You fucking, fucking - “

He was panting, moaning, louder than he planned to, louder than he ever got, he was, he was right there at the precipice, coming inside the mouth of - 

“You fucking _mutt_!” 

The last word was a scream that he hadn’t intended to let loose, he came fast and hard and spilled himself while trying to stumble back in shock. His eyes flew open and caught the last of the scene; his cum dribbling onto the floor while some if it had landed in Red’s mouth and on his chin, catching on that thrice-cursed golden tooth. Red’s own come was mixing with Razz’ on the floor, splotches of red and purple swirling into each other into shades of raspberry and magenta. Obscenely cheerful, considering the circumstances.

Red looked up at Razz with a knowing grin. 

He felt hollow and unsatisfied, a stark contrast to only a moment ago. He shouldn’t have done this. 

It was entirely clear to him he would likely do it again. 

Razz knew it, and Red knew it, and they both knew the other knew. 

“Clean this shit up,” Razz snapped, turning away to pull his shorts up and sort himself out. He sacrificed his carefully washed and pressed handkerchief to clean himself, but he wouldn’t let this piece of fabric come into contact with something so filthy as the floor or Red. 

“sure,” Red agreed easily from behind him. Then, smaller, quieter; “boss.”

Razz did not flinch. 

He left the room and went straight for the bathroom, to make sure there were no traces of his activities left for anyone to spot. Once he had that taken care of, he went down to the kitchen. Methodically, he looked over the ingredients and began to cook. There was nothing here but pasta ingredients, a meagre category of dishes that didn’t require the finesse and complexity he currently craved to settle his nerves, but it would have to do. 

Halfway through the process, he was joined by Edge and Slim. 

“You’re cooking? You could have waited!” Edge complained, although there was no real fire behind it, so Razz merely shrugged it off and continued. 

“We already kinda ate though,” Slim commented. 

“I didn’t expect you to respect my efforts any more now than you did back at home,” Razz stated coldly. 

“Aw. Don’t be mad. It was impastable not to try out Grillby’s,” Slim snickered, causing Edge to groan. Razz could hear the hint of laughter underneath though. He felt his own mouth threaten to twist into a grin, and hated himself for it. 

“what, do i hear someone stealing my pasta puns? looks like we’ve got an impasta in our home.” Red’s voice came out of nowhere, he must have snuck down somehow while Razz was busy watching the pots. 

He turned to scold his duplicate but all words left him when he caught sight of the other. 

Red had cleaned himself, barely. But he still looked noticeably disheveled. 

And he smelled of sex, clear as day. 

Both Edge and Slim were staring at him, before both of their gazes wandered over to Razz. His soul dropped. He wanted to explain, knowing what relationships between those too close in blood were seen as. He wanted for this not to be happening, he didn’t know what he fucking wanted and reacted with the only feeling he had for this kind of situation, which was rage. 

But his rage had nowhere to go. He wasn’t fast enough. 

“I can’t believe it,” Edge stated, sounding the part. Red only gave him a shrug in return.

“I can,” Slim cackled, staring at Razz with lazy mirth that lightened up his whole skull. It looked painfully lovely. “I always knew you loved nobody as much as you love yourself!”

His brother might as well have kicked him. It would have hurt less than those words.

“Of course,” Razz stated, ignoring the cold that spread in his ribcage. His speech was precise, calculated and methodical. “Who else could ever be good enough for the magnificent and malevolent Sans, but himself.”

“You’re such a fucking pair of narcissists,” Edge huffed, even though he seemed amused by the situation as well now. 

Red and Razz glanced at each other for only a second. 

Saw the things in each other that were alike, and more importantly the things that were different, mirror images of people other than themselves, the outer resemblance belying what was underneath. It wasn’t that the differences felt wrong because they had the same face. It was that their faces felt wrong because they didn’t match the differences, because they both had traits that they desired in someone else. Someone too close to home. 

Because _that_ kind of want was unacceptable, in either of their worlds, even though narcissism, apparently, was not. It was a bitter hypocrisy to swallow.

“we sure are,” Red agreed, looking for almost all the world entirely content. 

Almost all the world.

Razz ignored it, and wordlessly turned back to the stove.


End file.
